Accompanied only by the solace of my solitude
wading through the trees and brush.
A blank canvas for creativity and imagination.
A ruined structure among the trees.
a castle, my castle.
The chilled stream flowing through the woods.
A moat, my moat.
The smell of the pine permeating my nostrils;
the feel of the rough bark, the smooth leaves, the luscious grass
My own kingdom of welcomed loneliness.